Triggers & Skeletons
by BuffyReid
Summary: Something triggers Reid to have a flashback.  Reid & Morgan friendship.
1. Triggers

**Main Characters: **Spencer Reid, Derek Morgan

**Pairings: **None

**Spoilers: **Revelations; Profiler, Profiled. If you haven't seen these episodes, especially Revelations, this story may not make much since to you.

**Warnings: **Contains references to violence and a vague reference to childhood sexual abuse.

**Disclaimers: **I do not own Criminal Minds. Criminal Minds and its characters are the property of CBS.

**A/N: **

-Though reviews are appreciated, no flames please.

-No Beta was employed for this fanfic. If you notice any glaring mistakes, feel free to let me know.

-As I am new to fanfiction, I'm still learning about the rating system. If you feel that this story has an inappropriate or incorrect rating, please let me know.

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><p>"I just heard from the Bangor PD. They have another body," Garcia informed the team from her "realm of infinite knowledge", also known as Garcia's office and computer room at BAU headquarters. "I'm sending you the location now."<p>

The rest of the team was on the jet, headed to Bangor, Maine, and had been discussing their current case. Bodies had been turning up in various factories and warehouses. It appeared the victims had been stabbed and had their throats slashed, and then were moved after the fact. The factories and warehouses were apparently just being used as dump sites. The unsub wasn't merely dumping the bodies; however, he was setting fire to the dump sites, with the focal point being at the location of the body in each case.

"That's the second body in 2 days. He's escalating his time frame," Reid stated.

"Garcia, inform the Bangor PD that we'll meet them at the latest crime scene when we land."

"Sure boss."

Thirty minutes later, the team had landed and was on its way to Leery Fishery, the latest crime scene. When they arrived, Rossi spoke to a local officer who was stationed at the entrance to the fishery in order to give directions to various police, CSI, and now FBI personnel as they arrived.

"You need to go straight back, then hang a left at the T. The room is the big one at the end of the corridor. You can't miss it," he said with a look of disgust. "They apparently clean the fish in that room and, well, with the fire, it's pretty ripe."

Rossi led the team the way he had been directed by the officer. When they entered, they found themselves in a cavernous room. There was a cluster of people several yards away. The room was blackened and it was clear that the fire had started near the center of the room, where the body presumably was, and then radiated outward, leaving the furthest corners of the room relatively untouched. The fire appeared to have petered out on its own. There were large, metal tables against the walls; cutting and slicing tools on the tables and hanging on the walls; large sinks; and buckets, both intact and severely melted and charred, some of which apparently still contained various fish parts. Upon entering, the team members were assaulted with a terrible, inescapably intense odor, which caused them to cover their mouths and noses with their hands.

"Uh, what is that?" asked Rossi.

"It's…familiar," replied Prentiss.

JJ's eyes widened as she exclaimed, "Oh God!" From her place near the front of their group, she pivoted to look back towards the rear of their team.

Reid had come to a dead stop, frozen, staring straight ahead, but what he saw was not his teammates or the crime scene before him. Instead, he was seeing into a crime scene of 2 years prior, a dirty shack. He felt himself bound and in pain.

_A fist slammed into Reid's face._

"_Confess!" demanded Charles._

"_I haven't done anything," Reid replied weakly._

By the time JJ had turned, Morgan was already facing Reid and had taken a step back in Reid's direction. He saw the instant change in Reid's posture as his body had gone rigid. Reid's face was drained of any color it had, with the exception of the usual dark circles around his eyes, which now stood out stronger in contrast to his paling face. He was shaking and breathing rapidly. His eyes held a look of utter terror.

_Another blow pounded into his skull._

"_Tobias, help me," Reid begged._

"_He can't help you; he's weak. Confess! "_

"_Tobias."_

JJ's exclamation had drawn the rest of the team's attention. They followed her gaze to where it fell on Reid and they clearly saw that all was not well. Hotch noted the way Morgan was slowly closing the few feet of distance between himself and Reid.

"Morgan, do you have this?" he asked.

"I've got him. Go ahead."

"Good. Try to get him out of here. Everyone else, Reid's in good hands. Come on." He gestured to the remainder of the team to continue forward to the focal point of the crime scene. Hotch was concerned, but he knew that drawing the attention of the locals to Reid's predicament was the last thing Reid or the case needed.

There was a pause as everyone stood riveted with concern for what was happening to Reid. Worry and sorrow were etched on every face but one. Rossi's face was a mixture of concern and puzzlement. Slowly, the rest of the team began to turn and move away from Morgan and Reid.

"You mind telling me what that was about?" Rossi directed to Hotch in a low tone.

"Later," replied Hotch, a dark look in his eyes.

Meanwhile, Morgan stood facing Reid, the palms of his hands held out towards Reid in a calming gesture.

_Another hit sent Reid reeling._

_Charles walked around behind Reid and leaned over his shoulder._

"_Confess your sins."_

"_No," he whispered in a terrified and pain-filled voiced._

"Reid, Reid, look at me. It's Morgan. Listen to my voice. Come on kid, focus on me. You're safe. Tobias is gone and he can't ever hurt you again."

Reid's eyes flickered and seemed to find Morgan. Morgan slowly reached out a hand toward Reid's arm. Reid flinched away, but then calmed himself, allowing Morgan's hand to make contact. A moment later, his eyes finally made contact with Morgan's, recognition that this was his friend in front of him was reflected in them. A tear fell down his cheek and he exhaled sharply.

"Come on man, let's get you outta here," said Morgan.


	2. Skeletons

**For Warnings and Disclaimers, see chapter 1.**

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><p>The two men turned and began to walk out of the room. As they retraced their route and rounded the corner into the entrance hallway, Reid sprinted toward the door. Morgan ran after him. As he exited the building, he found Reid bent over a trash can heaving. Morgan looked on in sympathy for a moment, then back at the local officer stationed at the entrance. The officer seemed uncomfortable as Morgan scrutinized him to see how he would respond, and so he looked away. Satisfied, Morgan returned his attention to Reid. As Reid seemed to regain control of his stomach, Morgan approached him and placed a hand on his young friend's shoulder.<p>

"You alright?"

Reid nodded weakly as he slowly straightened himself.

"Come on."

Morgan guided Reid toward the rear of one of the team's SUVs and opened the hatch.

"Here, sit down. I'll be back in a sec."

Morgan retrieved a bottle of water from the front of the vehicle and handed it to Reid upon his return.

"Thanks," Reid said appreciatively.

"No problem man," Morgan responded as he settled himself beside Reid.

The two friends were quiet then for several minutes. Morgan wanted to give Reid some space to collect himself and soon each man was lost in his own thoughts. After a while, Reid broke the silence.

"Sorry…a-about all that," he whispered as he looked down at his hands with a look of shame on his face.

"Reid, you have nothing to be sorry about. Nothing, you hear me?" Morgan said very seriously.

Reid didn't respond. He just continued looking at his hands.

After several moments, Reid spoke. "It's been 2 years. You'd think I'd be over it. I…I mean…I didn't expect…"

"Reid, as a profiler, hell, as genius who remembers everything he's ever read, you know full well that traumatic events can have lasting effects. And symptoms of PTSD can crop up weeks, months, years, even decades after the trauma. You also know that scent can be a particularly strong trigger for memories, whether they're positive or negative."

Morgan could see by the way that Reid remained focused on his hands that he was still beating himself up over his reaction. It was obvious that he was embarrassed and ashamed to show what he perceived as weakness. _It's not right._ _He's suffered enough._

"You know, I won't even go near bourbon," Morgan began. "If I even catch a whiff of it, I feel sick. Actually, I got sick once."

"Really?" Reid asked as he finally lifted his gaze from his hands to Morgan, genuinely surprised and with the sound of hope, or at least relief, in his voice.

The reaction he'd just gotten from Reid told Morgan it was worth what it would cost him to talk about this.

"Really. When I smell it…it was Carl's drink of choice." Morgan said, a haunted quality to his voice seeping in now. His eyes were becoming unfocused. "His breath…when he…" he cut off, his jaw tightening.

"I haven't eaten fish since," Reid picked up, saving Morgan from feeling he had to continue. "At first, anything that smelled even remotely fishy made me nauseous, so I started consciously avoiding fish, fish restaurants, and such. At some point, I guess it became a habit. I didn't really think about the fact that I was avoiding it anymore. Maybe that's why I didn't think about what I was walking into today. I should've…realized, but I was just focused on what we'd find at the crime scene."

"None of us made the connection. Sometimes we get surprised. Reid, we all have skeletons in our closets. Sometimes we can keep them locked up and in control, but sometimes they escape and they're right there in our faces and …it's scary."

"You don't seem like you're ever scared, of anything."

"But I am."

"Thank you, Morgan."

"For what?"

"For sharing things I know you'd rather not talk about to normalize what I'm going through. For understanding."

"Anytime pretty boy. Anytime."


End file.
